


The Artist’s Muse

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Criminal Minds Collection [15]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Confessions, Embarrassment, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 21:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: After repeatedly receiving his mail, you pay Derek Morgan a visit.





	The Artist’s Muse

“Not again”, you groaned, your usual mail deliverer dragging another giant package through the foyer, wrapped in the usual brown paper. “I went to the mail centre-they said they’d sorted it”, you grumbled, turning the label on the package, once again addressed to a MR DEREK MORGAN, yet having your address written beneath.

“Maybe you know him?” he suggested, but you shook your head. 

You were so sure you’d never met a Derek Morgan in the past. Even if you had, there’d be no reason for his packages to be delivered to your apartment.

“I’ll look into it”, you stated. “And I’m really sorry you have to be dragging this kinda stuff all over the place”, you apologized.

He shrugged it off, quickly helping you push the package into the elevator, riding up to your floor, and into your apartment.

You bid him farewell, left alone with whatever this thing was, your curiosity spiking once more, wondering exactly what Derek Morgan was having delivered so often.

“I know-I’m late. But it totally wasn’t my fault”, you panted, leaning on the desk and taking a deep breath.

Emily raised an eyebrow, waving you away to your desk.

You waddled away, huffing out in relief the second you hit the padded seat, before you were interrupted.

“There you are!”

You glanced up, a colourful figure storming towards you.

“Pen?”

She took your hand without a word, dragging you out of your comfy chair and straight to her office.

“So-remember how you told me about those packages?” she asked, shutting the door behind her and sitting in her chair, computer coming to life. “Well…thought I’d do a little digging-because I can totally understand one package being delivered to the wrong place. Happens all the time. But when you kept getting the same guy’s packages, I thought it was really strange”.

“Penelope-slow down”, you chuckled, needing her to take a breath.

“Sorry-it’s just…I found him!” she giggled, finally turning to look at you with a look of excitement.

“Found who?”

“Derek Morgan!” she exclaimed. “The guy who’s been getting his stuff delivered to your apartment by accident. I found him”.

“What? How!”

“Well…before I worked in an office, I was a bit of a tech whizz. I hacked into…”

“You broke the law?” you interrupted, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. “Penny, what the hell?”

She didn’t take you worries too seriously, assuring you she’d done enough to make sure they wouldn’t be able to trace it back to her.

“That’s not the point. The point is-I know where this guy lives. And I also know you’re not getting any of these packages by accident. He wants you to have them”.

“Can I help you?”

You damn near jumped at the sudden voice, turning around to be greeted with a face that seemed more familiar than it should’ve.

“Y/n? Damn, what’re you doing here?”

You froze, your mind going blank as you tried to place his face.

“You don’t remember me?” he asked with playful offence.

He stepped aside as an invitation, which you hesitantly took, entering his large apartment, floor length windows allowing the sunlight to flood the place, paintings and portraits decorating the walls.

“You want anything to drink?” he asked, moving to the kitchen area, while you stood right in front of the door-wondering why the hell this place was so familiar.

“Uh…no thanks”, you replied, turning to examine the giant portraits that were hanging on the walls.

You screwed your eyes, trying to focus on the figure in each and every one of them, your heart filling with fear at the realization of just who it was.

“Are those…me?” you asked hesitantly, taking a few cautious steps towards the door, ready to run the second he made any sudden movements.

“Yup-just like you asked”.

You whipped back around, completely confused.

“Like I asked?”

“You really don’t remember”, he muttered, more to himself than anything. “You’ve been here before. You came with Spence”.

“Spence?”

“Nerdy little kid? Science geek? I think he’s a professor at your friend’s college?” he shrugged, not sure how you exactly knew each other, only knowing there was some sort of link.

“Oh-Professor Reid? Right…yea…” you answered, vaguely recollecting being dragged out a few months ago by your roommate who was crushing on her professor.

“Well-I had an art show. You came over, had a good time, got a bit tipsy…dragged me to the bed…” he chuckled.

Your face heated, embarrassment washing over you-mortified that your drunken self had really put the moves on a total stranger.

“Did we…” you trailed off, praying you hadn’t taken anything too far.

“No”, he assured. “You were way too drunk-I’d never take advantage of that”.

You let out a sigh of relief, slumping onto his couch and taking the drink he’d offered you.

“But…you did see a few of my paintings. Told me they were great-that I should venture into human figures. And then you got naked, got on my bed, and told me to ‘draw me like one of those French bitches’.

In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the couch.

“And…you were right”, Derek continued. “My paintings were mostly empty. Lifeless. Then I painted you in-and they’ve become some of my best work”.

If anything, that made you feel slightly better, although the shame of getting so drunk you stripped for this man wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Right…I’m getting these paintings because…”

“Because I painted you-thought you’d like to see what I did. But I’m guessing you never opened them?”

“Nope-they’re sat on my floor cos I had no idea who to give them too”.

“Well…why don’t I come over? Take them off your hands?” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Despite not even remembering having met him the first time around, you couldn’t help but think that was a great idea.

And maybe once he was in your apartment, you could inspire his art a little more.


End file.
